Search and Kiss and Destroy
by Mishaa
Summary: Dump: Ficlets, headcanons, and fills to prompts on tumblr, centering on Fushimi and Yata and their relationship with each other.
1. Prompt: sharing clothes

**First published**: December 12, 2012

**From anon**: something about Yata wearing Fushimi's uniform jacket.

* * *

Fushimi hates a lot of things and likes a rare few. In fact, when questioned, the only two things he'd ever admit to liking would be Yata (this being common knowledge), and sex with Yata (this one's more of a common assumption among his subordinates).

What he loves however, are the days when he finds Yata alone in his apartment or office on his own volition, knowing full well that even when his intentions were pure ("I-I'm here on Kusanagi-san's orders!" is his usual excuse because his pride keeps him from saying "I miss you," and "I just wanted to see you"), every time he does visit, Fushimi _never_ holds back, and they always—_always_—end up strewing their clothes all across the floor as they set aside pasts, caution, and conscience; carnal instinct driving them to tangle their bodies and to indulge in the other in an almost hopeless attempt to satiate their want.

And although Yata is less affectionate when he's sober, Fushimi savors each moment nonetheless because Yata still sticks around—"suffers his presence" longer each time and for a short while, he has Yata all to himself.

**:+:**

They sit at the foot of the bed, all their clothes save for their boxers strewn messily around them. Yata is relaxed even in between Fushimi's legs, too focused on the wide holographic screen before them to be shy. Fushimi's got his arms around his bare belly and his head comfortably resting atop his ginger hair.

"Ha! I'm so winning this one, Saru!" Yata exclaims, tilting his body along with the controls as  
if doing so would help Mario steer the kart through the sharp turns.

Fushimi, a lot more composed and calm, mumbles something in approval, a mischievous smirk gracing his face. He makes quick work with pressing a sequence of buttons and his own kart in the game shoots forward, past Yata's own and through the finish line.

"Winner: Saru!" is, yet again, displayed on the screen, and Yata groans and throws the control to the side.

"That was a cheat code, wasn't it?!" He turns to glare at Fushimi. "Fucking cheater!"

The devious boy plants a quick kiss on Yata's cheek. "I'm just a better racer."

"Are you blind?!" Yata exclaims, a red tint creeping on his cheeks. "I was totally going to win that one!" As if to prove his point, he take Fushimi's glasses and puts it on, smirking when he sees the quick flash of annoyance in Fushimi's eyes.

"Whoa. You're fucking blind, Saru!" He squints up at his best friend's face and then turns to decipher what the screen's morphed into. The glasses magnified and distorted everything, giving him a headache that he easily ignored.

The earlier annoyance disappears as Fushimi occupies himself by trailing kisses down the length of Yata's neck, enjoying Yata's lenient side. But it returns soon after when an incessant knocking resounds throughout the bedroom.

"Fushimi!" they hear Awashima's voice call from over on the main door of the apartment.

"E-Err, Saru…" Yata starts, and Fushimi bites down on his shoulder to cut him off. "Ignore her. She'll go away if she doesn't get a reply." His hands feel their way up Yata's bare torso. "I want to do it again," he says against Yata's skin.

The knocking persists and Yata turns uncomfortable and stiff. "There are tons of people that can do my work for me," Fushimi says in an attempt to relax Yata. "Won't you let me spend the day with you?"

"B-But… The cold hearted woman…" Yata begins to say when a loud bang startles them both.

"Fushimi, I'm coming in!" Awashima yells and they hear the sound of footsteps crossing the living room and approaching the bedroom.

Yata throws Fushimi off and searches for his clothes and finds his shirt in ruins. He groans as he hurriedly pulls up his pants. "Dammit, Saru! That's the fifth time this month!"

Fushimi finds his clothes more quickly. He's already buttoning up his white button up shirt before Yata even finds his pants. He throws his blue uniform jacket over to Yata. "Make do."

He rushes to the door before Awashima could tear it down as well. "What?" he deadpans in his pessimistic tone of voice, opening the door slightly enough to see the impatience in Awashima's face.

"Movement from the Colorless king. We'll make our move in an hour." She crosses her arms below her chest and taps her feet impatiently.

"You had to break my door for that…? It's a goddamn hour from now," he complains. "Couldn't you have called me in my PDA?"

Awashima rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Knowing you boys, you won't be finished until tomorrow. And whenever you two are together, your PDA's practically don't exist anymore."

"Yata-kun," she calls, and Fushimi lets the door fall open to reveal a blushing Yata with bed head, the blue on the Scepter4 uniform seemingly a darker shade against Yata's white skin. The jacket was far too large for him, and it didn't provide any cover for the red marks decorating the skin around his collar bone. Fushimi's thick framed glasses tips down his nose as he stares wide-eyed at Awashima. He points a finger to himself, silently asking her if he was talking to him. His eyes dart from Fushimi, who was silently enjoying the exchange, and Awashima.

"Yes, you. You might want to get going too—" At this, Fushimi wanted to complain, but Awashima holds up her index finger before he could say anything. "Izumo's forgetful, just like you. He never remembers to view the attachments. The details Munakata's lax about are in there."

She turns to Fushimi. "Hurry up. Don't keep us waiting," she says and leaves.

"Yes," he grits out, miffed about his time with Yata being cut short. He turns to Yata and finds the ginger rummaging through his closet. "Taking your clothes!" he says, shoving his head and arms through the hole of one of Fushimi's spare tees.

In a rush, he grabs his skateboard and runs out. Fushimi is left standing, hating the Colorless King and his dog even more. He sighs and pops in the last three buttons on his shirt.

He walks to the direction of his discarded jacket when Yata dashes back in, panting and completely out of breath. Yata pauses at the door before fast-walking over to Fushimi and giving the taller boy a peck on the lips as he slips in Fushimi's glasseses.

Fushimi's vision clears and he sees the hard look Yata wears. "No cheating this time, alright? Fight fair, Saru!" Yata says before hopping on his board and skating out of the room, waving Fushimi bye.

And Fushimi is left to deal with the almost deafening thumps of his heart. "You're the unfair one, Misaki…" he mutters, shaking his head and massaging his temple. "Expecting me to fight fairly while you wear_ my_ clothes and _my _marks… All my energy would be put to trying not to jump you right then and there…"

* * *

**A/N**: Working on the other prompts but this one really pinged. :)


	2. Prompt: fears & comfort

**Originally Published**: December 09, 2012

**muku-kufufued**: ". . . a high school AU or in the past. They were camping in the woods and Yata and Saruhiko got lost. Yata got scared (but, he's a tsundere so he wouldn't admit it) and Saru comforted him (in his sadistic ways). . ."

**Warnings**: Genderbent Fushimi & Yata (Gen)

* * *

"T-This is all your fault, Saru!" Misaki wails, her voice uncharacteristically devoid of its usual overbearing power. She swats off the insects that relentlessly hovered around her head, grumbling when she feels that a few managed to successfully make a meal out of her.

Saruhiko scoffs, pushing the foilage aside. "Putting the blame on me again, Misaki?" she sneers. "Did you forget _you're _the one who gave in to Awashima-sempai's bait?" She clicks her tongue when some of the branches and thorns cuts her arm. _When did this forest get so thick anyway?_

Misaki sees this and fiddles the blue sweater Saruhiko made her wear.

As if reading her thoughts, Saruhiko says, "Don't take that off, Misaki. You're more prone to allergies from whatever's in here than me." She looks back and smirks at the ginger. "Besides, unlike some people, I actually bothered to wear insect repellent."

"Sh-Shut up!" Misaki splutters, muttering irrelevant excuses under her breath.

She follows close on Saruhiko's heels, silently relying on her best friend to pave a better path. "Anyway, this was supposed to be just a fear challenge for the camping activity! But it's been half a fucking hour since we last saw someone from the other group! We're definitely lost, aren't we, Saru?!"

"And how's that my fault?" Saruhiko retorts. "Do _you _want to lead us through this?" She gestures to thick overgrown branches that blocked their path.

"…" Misaki brushes her short ginger bangs behind her ears and scratches the back of her neck, pride keeping her from letting Saruhiko hear what she wants.

Saruhiko pushes her glasses up and impatiently taps her foot, enjoying how uncomfortable Misaki looked.

The sound of a twig snapping broke the tense silence, startling Misaki. She jolts and looks at Saruhiko fearfully, _hoping_ and _praying _the sound came from her. Fear reflects in her eyes as she meets her friend's confused look. "T-That wasn't you…?"

Understanding dawns on Saruhiko and a sadistic grin takes over her face, but it disappears as quick as it came and a well crafted baffled look replaces it. Saruhiko turns her head left and write, trying to find the source of the sound. "It's not me… And if we're as lost as you said… Then…"

"…Who could that be…?" Misaki finishes, tossing her pride and dignity aside to lock onto Saruhiko's arm.

"…It can't be…" she hears Saruhiko mutter. Alarmed, she hisses, "What? What?! What can't be?"

Saruhiko withdraws the arm Misaki clung to and pats the girl on the head. She sneaks her arm around Misaki's waist, pulling her closer. "Ah, forget it. Just something Awashima-sempai said about some sightings of a wolf pack around here."

Misaki clings to her undershirt instead, crumpling the black fabric and maybe scratching a bit of Saruhiko's back as well. "O-Oh. So it's j-just that? P-Pfft, wolves d-don't scare me."

Saruhiko rolls her eyes. "Don't worry. Wolve's aren't prone to attacking girls. They're mostly just attracted to the smell of testosterone."

"H-How'd you know that?" Misaki asks, looking up at the taller girl and for once, not making a fuss about the unfair height difference.

Saruhiko raises a brow. "Are you doubting me?"

"No!" Misaki exclaims, her innocent eyes blinking rapidly as if the thought of her best friend lying was preposterous and impossible and Saruhiko engages in a battle of wills with herself; the urge to just attack Misaki right then almost overwhelming her sensible side.

"I-It was in one of my AP classes," she stutters, almost losing her infamous composure. She thanks the whatever divine being was watching over them for Misaki's awful relationship with her studies. "S-So as long as you weren't spending so much time with those guys from Homra, we should be fine."

_Bingo._ Saruhiko feels Misaki tense up and hears her audible gulp.

"S-Saru, get me out of here!"

_You only need me._

The sound of leaves shuffling silences the both of them. Saruhiko narrows her eyes to the direction of the sound as the shuffling gets louder and louder.

A bright light blinds them.

"Ugh. So this is where you two ran off to," came a familiar distinctive voice.

"Awashima-sempai!" Misaki yells and tackles Seri when she directs her flashlight away from them.

Saruhiko clicks her tongue. She gives her sempai a pointed look, and Seri returns with an apologetic one.

"You don't seem so glad to see us, Fushimi-kun," came the voice of Reisi, who appears from behind Seri. He was smug, looking like he had uncovered a plot and managed to stop it before it could fall into play.

Saruhiko grits her teeth. "No, it's a relief to see you guys," she says, her tone laced with the kind of sarcasm that everyone but Misaki would pick up on. "_I really thought we'd be stranded here for, oh, I don't know, a few more hours?_"

Munakata approaches her and takes a a few strands of her long dark hair. "Goodness, no. I can't be losing any of my fellow Council members, now can I?"

A few other people arrive and Munakata leads them back onto the trail.

"What's up with this?! Saruhiko's hisses under her breath once she finally corners Seri on the way back.

"I'm sorry. He suddenly interrupted the game and he made a fuss when you were missing from the head count," she says, slowing her pace to match Saruhiko's when it was clear that she wouldn't be shaking the other girl anytime soon.

They pull back so they're walking behind the group and far from earshot.

"Wasn't he supposed to be with Mikoto-san preparing the other activities?"

"Mikoto got sick and—"

"So he couldn't get some so he decided no one else could either, huh?"

"Oh just be glad I even went along with this in the first place! You got to spend time alone with your _"Misakiii~"_ didn't you?"

"…True. And I don't think she'll be hanging around the Homra guys for the rest of this trip either, so that's another plus."

* * *

**A/N:** Just wanted to try how gender bender would be like.

Uhh, marked this story as [complete] but there will be erratic additions to this. :)


	3. Headcanon: scars

**Originally Published**: December 15, 2012

**Headcanon**: on Saruhiko's scarred mark

* * *

**1.**

Misaki loves kissing Saruhiko's chest, specifically over the scarred remains of the red tattoo identical to his own. He kisses it and kisses it, hoping that by some miracle, it'd heal and become whole again. He knows this is impossible, because scars like that last forever, but he can't help praying anyway, just as he can't help but think that as long as that mark stays charred, his relationship with Saruhiko will never return to the how it was before.

**2.**

When the he and Misaki got their marks on the same place, Saruhiko believed it was proof of, or the embodiment of the red string of fate that tied he to Misaki and Misaki to him.

But Homra took Misaki from him and broke the bond that he thought unbreakable (for even hunger and poverty could not separate them), so he scratches and scratches, claws at the mark until the skin over his heart is red, sore, and bleeding. People believe this habit of his represents his hatred for Homra, but while this isn't necessarily false, it's not quite his reason either.

He does it to remind him of the pain he suffered in Homra—the pain in watching Misaki slowly slip away and stop becoming _his and only his_. Because at the sight of Misaki, he aches and yearns to return if only to be able to stand by him again. His heart and mind loses reason, so his body reminds him.

**3.**

Saruhiko enjoys telling Misaki that the state of his mark represents his heart, that every scar is there to remind him of the pain Misaki inflicts on him with tactless words and inconsiderate actions.

Misaki lets him continue believing that's the reason he doesn't like seeing it. He knows the teasing's far worse if he shared how he viewed the scars over Saruhiko's half of their matching set as Saruhiko giving up and ending their friendship for good. He won't admit how his heart fell and lurched back up, almost vomiting out as it goes through the stages of heart break when Saruhiko left him for the Blues.

Each scar tells him that at some point, Saruhiko didn't completely belong to him and that for as long as they are there, he'd never be able to truly take Saruhiko back from the Blue king's grasp and a part of him would always belong (_or had belonged_, he tries to console himself) to someone else.

He hates how this makes him a hypocrite.

* * *

**A/N**: \o/ I make a lot of these on Tumblr... My tags are all over the place so I'm dumping this on FFN (AO3 later) to track them all. Too tired to go look for the rest right now though. Oh well.


	4. Prompt: from Kusanagi's POV

**Published****: **December 15, 2012

**From anon: **". . . a FushiYata fic from Kamamoto's point of view? . . ."

* * *

Routines are like drugs. Once you fall into one, you start to become dependent on it. But sometimes, you don't notice until it's too late and when that routine breaks—when something changes, so does your sanity.

Kusanagi wonders how big a part Fushimi was (still is) in Yata's life for Yata to have been reduced to the mess he was when the bastard left.

**:+:**

It was almost like clockwork. He'd get up everyday, go down and look for breakfast, and if there wasn't any, steal whatever Eric was eating. Fushimi would make a snide comment about whatever it is that catches his attention before Eric could start a fight with Yata, and Yata would make loud retorts to Fushimi's remarks but would plop down beside him on the couch anyway.

Fushimi would narrow his eyes at whatever Yata was eating and steal it from him. He'd then shove whatever he had on hand into Yata's mouth before the ginger could complain. They'd continue to sit and exchange remarks as they eat their breakfast (or brunch). And if anyone else wanted to sit on the couch as well, they learned to sit on Fushimi's side and never on Yata's (because no one wanted to be subject to Fushimi's glares—_no one_).

Kusanagi considered making breakfast to avoid these fights, but Tatara always made the best meals when he's up for it and it didn't do any good to wake him up earlier than one in the afternoon. Besides, it was fun watching Fushimi bait Yata so easily.

Then Mikoto would come down and as if by instinct, Yata would drop everything and jump to Mikoto's side. If he was feeling brave enough, he'd even take up the stool on the bar counter beside him.

Mikoto would ask Kusanagi if there was anything to eat and before, Kusanagi would have told him to go look for something himself, but he learned that if he did that, Yata would offer what Fushimi gave him, or when he'd already finished it, offer to go do the grocery, and that would undoubtedly put Fushimi in an even fouler mood. So Kusanagi learned to heat up last night's dinner for Mikoto and hide it from anyone else beforehand.

He really should have known, or at least _suspected_ Fushimi's resignation, by the way he—well, since _glare_ is too strong a word—_looked at Mikoto with a well hidden resentment_when he thought no one was looking.

As if Mikoto's presence was the pause button, they'd continue their bickering once their king leaves and Fushimi's mood returns to normal as if the conversation was never put to a halt in the first place. When their flirting gets overboard, Kusanagi would send them off to whatever errand he could find. Like a curfew, they'd return before ten in the evening but never earlier than nine, even when they were given a job that only takes half an hour. Kusanagi doesn't know what they do in their spare time nor does he want to. (He's contemplating about giving Fushimi his own room so maybe Chitose and Dewa, being their unfortunate neighbor, would be able to get some quiet sleep at night. But then he wonders if that will even change anything.)

When Fushimi left, Yata was at a loss. Everything haunts you when you lose your best friend. You can't forget, or even pretend to notice that person's not there. Escapes are hard to find, and Yata desperately looked for them because even waking up in the morning was hard when half of what used to be _their_(now only _his_) room was barren.

Kusanagi did not know what to do. For a while and days at a time, Yata wouldn't even come home. And when he did, he was passed out, drunk from alcohol or tired from getting into meaningless fights, and carried home by the members who found him.

Thinking back, he regrets how it took five broken ribs, a bad concussion to the head, a fractured arm, and three trips to the hospital before he did more than just _telling_Yata to stop.

Curfew got tighter ("Be home before six.") and rules were enforced ("You call me every two hours and you have to be sober each time or there _will_be repercussions."). Kamamoto was assigned as Yata's new partner (this wasn't received very well—a tantrum here and there plus a couple of flames thrown) and he was not allowed to leave Yata's side or take his eyes off of him.

In secret, he was ordered never to let an encounter between Yata and Fushimi happen—and if it was possible, with anyone from the Blues at all.

Kusanagi pulled a few strings and managed to suck it up to call Awashima after gods know how long it had been since their last encounter, and after a few shameless minutes, he had gotten his… whatever she used to be to him, to help keep an eye on Fushimi and keep him from meeting with Yata.

It worked well enough and although it wasn't enough to be trusted with the position of vanguard again, Yata _did_get better (considering how far he'd fell). Well, that is, until Yata found out and threw a fit, exclaiming that they were treating him like a kid, and that he could take care of himself—even going as far as cursing Kusanagi and Tatara (who had defended Kusanagi's intentions) in front of Mikoto.

Like any parent (or substitute parent?), Kusanagi would have been angry enough to reach his boiiling point, if not for the sinking fear that Yata went out to seek Fushimi in the middle of the cold rain. Not only would their meeting be too early, but Yata would also have nowhere to turn to if it didn't turn out well because knowing him, he wouldn't have the courage to show his face back into the bar after he exploded like that.

So Kusanagi set out a search team to bring Yata back and just as well, for he had found Yata by the docks, seemingly unharmed but when Kusanagi looked into his eyes, they were hollow and devoid of their usual bright flame. The grass had been burnt, and Yata's board looked worn and his bat looked like it had more scratches than before, telling him a fight had broken out but Fushimi had the heart to keep Yata physically intact.

Yata tells him Fushimi didn't _want_ to come back and that there was nothing he could do to change his mind. Fushimi didn't say _why_ or even _I'm sorry_, only that he couldn't wait to face Yata in the battlefield. He doesn't tell Kusanagi about the insults Fushimi directed towards Homra, but Kusanagi suspected it nonetheless.

Kusanagi couldn't tell which were tears, and which were rain, only that Yata was sobbing and mumbling apologies like it was the only thing keeping him together. Kusanagi could only hug him close, reassuring him that he had a home to return to with pats to the head.

Kusanagi sends messages to everyone, saying he's found Yata and that they're in the field by the docs. Tatara was the first to respond, calling Kusanagi's PDA.

"Cheer up, Yata-chan! He didn't say you're no longer his best friend, did he? Besides, the both of you need to expand your worlds anyway, he knows this and that's just what he's doing. He's not cutting off ties, he said so himself. Think of it as… he just wants a change in scenery?"

"I-I… It's not like I want him to keep being my best friend…! Tch. He's no good! I-I'm glad to be rid of him! Yeah, that's right." Yata pouted and Tatara laughs at Kusanagi's suppressed groan. _How much of a tsundere can he get?!_

_"I'm in the tower a few buildings down. Meet you guys at the entrance and we can go home together,"_ Tatara said. _"Yata-chan better not be crying when I see him."_

Expectedly, Yata exclaimed that he wasn't crying and that it was just the rain. Tatara laughed before cutting the video call.

**:+:**

They headed to the tower, which was on their way home, and heard a gunshot when they neared the entrance. They ran up the stairs and found Tatara bleeding on one of the balconies, his camera in hand and still recording the documentary he would have named The Search For Yata. They called for help, but he died just before Mikoto arrived.

Later, Kusanagi tells Yata it's not his fault—that Tatara had been talking about taking a video on top of that tower for a long time, but Yata doesn't listen and still secretly harbors the guilt. To everyone's relief, he didn't turn into the recluse they expected him to be after that.

Kusanagi hates how it took the death of a member to return Yata to his normal self, but he's glad to see Yata direct his energy into positive things like finding the killer instead of moping about.

* * *

**A/N**: I know, I_ know_, I went a bit overboard on the Tatara thing and I doubt this is what anon meant in his/her prompt, but I really couldn't help it—once the headcanon starts rolling, it can't be stopped. :) And I seem to be in a happy mood tonight so the ending's kind of rushed because I'm really just not angsty right now. Of course, one stray Sarumi post on my dashboard could ruin all that...

To the other prompters: I haven't forgotten about ya'll! Hope you don't mind if I take my time? :


	5. Headcanon: name

**Published**: December 19, 2012

**Headcanon**: of Saruhiko saying Misaki's name

* * *

Misaki hates it when Saruhiko calls his name. Not for the lack of respect—they've known each other far too long for that to be a problem—but because of how it drags the past to light, bringing with it emotions Misaki doesn't want to feel or to even remember.

_"Don't ever leave me, Misaki."_

_"Because I won't ever leave you."_

His voice resonates in Misaki's mind, reminding him off the past and all the things that came with that, the things that Saruhiko didn't value enough to stay with him for.

_"I'll protect you, Misaki." _ _"I won't let anyone hurt Misaki!"_

Misaki bitterly scoffs at this memory now. Because all along, there was nothing there to protect him from except Saruhiko himself, and the betrayal that came with him. Someone should have told him back then that Saruhiko was a back-stabbing bastard that couldn't see a good family even when it was right in his face. And that it wouldn't be poverty, or hunger, that'd break him but the sight of Saruhiko's back turned.

Of course, to be fair, he didn't think his younger self would believe anything bad said about Saruhiko, but someone really should have just tried. It'd have saved him a whole lot of heart break and tears, and long sleepless nights.

_"Misaki's the one I treasure the most."_

_"Misaki…"_

He hates how Saruhiko says his name, not for lack of respect, but because of the promises that came with it, promises that Saruhiko couldn't keep.

_"Misaki… I like you."_

_"I love you, Misaki."_

Because every time he'd hear his name leave Saruhiko's mouth, he had come to expect that the kind of words that would make his heart clench and beat, and would put butterflies in his stomach, would follow and when instead it's a clash of swords and bats and power, this fucking awful feeling hits him, and he doesn't know if it's disappointment or what, only that he wants to rip his fucking chest out because it's annoying, and he knows he _shouldn't_ feel this way and that there was no fucking reason to feel this way at all.

But he feels it anyway, and it annoys him to hell, and he just wants it to _stop_ so he begs Saruhiko to just stop, to stop saying his name, to stop haunting him,_ to stop being his enemy and to return to being his friend._

* * *

**A/N: **This anon gave a prompt about Fushimi and Yata's first time and as I was writing it (because it's smutty and it's taking a really long time to write o_o), this headcanon kept waving neon lights around my head, asking me to write it write it write it. And I was going to incorporate it into the fill for the prompt, but it begged to have a post on its own. Soooo _


	6. Ficlet: christmas

Crack Christmas fic. Happy birthday _snarkyswordsman_ (tumblr) | _Casketta _(FFN)

* * *

Saruhiko didn't expect to see Misaki leaving the grocery, a bag in his hand. For one, Misaki wasn't domestic enough to even know what a grocery was. And for another, as much as Kusanagi liked the vanguard, he was too meticulous about his meals to leave the shopping to him, especially not when it's the holiday season and everyone's expecting good food.

So when he crosses paths with the unlikeliest person on his way to get the Blue King's daily coffee order, he's completely dumbfounded, and his first instinct—to jump and smother Misaki with kisses and to provoke him for responses—is suppressed, and all he could do was stop and stare.

For Misaki's part, he sees Saruhiko, and expecting the regular reactions, he freezes, eyes hard and wide open. When the usual tackle didn't come, he stiffly tries to shrink away, slowly trying to ease out of Saruhiko's peripheral vision, hoping that by some chance, Saruhiko's engrossed in something else for once and didn't see him.

Unfortunately for him, Saruhiko stirs out of his stupor just before he could break into a run. Like a cheetah taking its prey, he rushes to Misaki and slings and arm over his shoulder, pulling him close and pushing out any other thoughts of escape that might've entered his mind.

"_Mi-sa-kiii~_" he croons, engulfing the ginger in a tight hug and muffling his protests in the process.

Fully knowing it was a hopeless cause once Saruhiko gets his hands on him, Misaki still tries to resist, moving his arms however he could despite the restrictions put on them by Saruhiko's embrace. He manages to break away enough to say, "Let go!"

Saruhiko pouts. It's the holidays and Misaki's _still_ so heartless. What does it take to get some love around here? He sighs and crosses his arms, shaking his head. Misaki takes this chance to get away.

"I'll buy you chocolate~" he singsongs, a smug grin sneaking its way into his face.

Predictably, Misaki comes to a halt and hastily walks back, not pausing when he grabs Saruhiko and drags him into the store. They stop at the snack aisle and Misaki picks up a red box and thrusts it at Saruhiko.

"XXX chocolate with Christmas special… Now comes with…" Saruhiko reads, "a surprise inside…?" He looks at Misaki's flushed face and scoffs. "Really? You can get anything you want and you'd get this cheap thing?"

Misaki's flush deepens and he his face contorts into a look of a child about to throw a tantrum. "F-Forget it! Give it back!" he huffs, trying to reach out for the box, and curses when Saruhiko uses his height against him.

He throws a weak punch to Saruhiko's abdomen, which only serves to entice the taller boy into provoking him even further. Saruhiko resists, however, if not for Misaki's apparent discomfort, then for his own curiosity. While he loves seeing Misaki fidget to the point that it's almost become a skill, this was just_far_ too easy.

"I'll get it for you, but are you sure you don't want this bigger one?" he asks, putting down the box and reaching for a bigger package.

"No!" Misaki exclaims, taking the box Saruhiko just put down and putting it back in his hands. "This one."

He blinks. "…Alright," he says slowly. Taking hold of Misaki's wrist, he pulls him to the counter to pay for the box. But even after they've already paid and left the store, Misaki's ears and cheeks are still red. Saruhiko wonders if it's the cold and offers his coat, to which Misaki declines, breaking away from Saruhiko to walk in another direction.

"Take and run, Misaki?" Saruhiko asks, exasperated. Winter. Wonderful time of the year for people who are loved. Eh, not so much for those still pining.

Misaki goes stiff and splutters, "N-No…"

"Geez, Misaki. It's _Christmas_. Or at least, it's the Holiday season. Can't you make things easier for me even just a little?"

"What's with you, anyway?" he adds when he sees the indignant look Misaki puts on. "You're being really… quiet. It's kind of creeping me out a little."

Pissed, Misaki throws one of the bags at him, and he stumbles back to catch it. "Here! Have a Merry Christmas you complete idiot!" He stomps away a few steps before jumping on his skateboard and taking off with a little too much force.

Saruhiko inspects the bag and finds it's the same one he saw Misaki leaving the grocery with. Inside is a box that's badly wrapped, _Merry Christmas stupid monkey _scribbled on in a messy handwriting that Saruhiko knows belongs to Misaki.

Too eager to wait till he got home, he unwraps it carefully, making sure the tape doesn't rip off anything, especially not the almost illegible greeting. It takes a little more time than he'd hope, and he can't help the small amount of disappointment that comes when he finds that it was just the same kind of chocolate he'd bought Misaki earlier.

It's not until he gets home and opens the chocolate box ("It had better taste like rainbows and unicorns.") that he begins to suspect Misaki's intentions. The secret surprise that comes with the box is a red PDA strap with a metallic charm in the shape of a flying crow's outline hanging on the end.

Saruhiko sort of regrets not inspecting the box Misaki had demanded of him, and though he has a notion, he still surmises over what Misaki had got.

He didn't really have to think for long though, because the next time he catches sight of Misaki and Kamamoto through one of the windows in the building Scepter4 was about to take over, the ginger had an azure strap, much like his own, but with a gleaming charm in the distinct shape of a monkey hanging on the end.

Misaki almost drops his PDA in his haste to stuff it in his pockets when he notices Saruhiko watching him. "W-What?! You p-picking a fight, eh S-Saru?!" he shouts from bellow, and Kamamoto tries to steer him away from the building.

Seri makes a mental note to give Saruhiko a few days off for his self-restraint. She doubted the building would last through any of their scuffles and they badly needed the place.

She didn't think the Blue king would oppose that idea either_. _Munakata may be a recluse when he's immersed in his puzzles, but even _he _notices the thick tension in the air when the vanguards meet and _someone's_ going to have to resolve that soon or they're all going to drown in it.

* * *

**A/N**: Inspired by this photo: carabarks. tumblr post/38464660950/ yata-saru-buy-me-this-one-fushimi-still-eat (erase the spaces).

Also, I really should be working on my gift for the Secret Santa exchange /cries.


	7. ImagineYourOTP: as seatmates

**First Published: **December 28, 2012

**Imagine your OTP** going to middle school together, being placed next to each other in class. Both of them have secret crushes on each other, but are too scared to admit it.

* * *

When the teacher tells Saruhiko his new seat is somewhere in the front of the class, on the side opposite the window no less, he thinks it's the worst seat in the world and that the teacher was definitely out to get him.

But while he hates being in class on principle, especially in a seat in that didn't warrant daydreaming of any sort, he hates schoolwork even more, and therefore, must be a little grateful that the dorks sitting around him are the studious types that rarely does anything but study.

Don't get him wrong—he doesn't _cheat._ He does well enough with his studies not to resort to _that_. (Sometimes, he hates how he absorbs information without even trying, specifically for the reason that teachers like his homeroom teacher thinks they see some kind of "potential" in him and assume that by grouping him with these snotty hard working types, some of their diligence would rub off on him, or at the very least, take away some of his lethargy.) He just likes knowing that in group activities, since they're usually grouped by seating arrangement, he can finally leave the work to someone else for once.

That is, until he finds out his new seatmate and partner is a shitty delinquent with bad taste in clothing, who can't even multiply and divide properly. Of all the goddamn people…

As it turns out, that shitty delinquent's name was Yata Misaki and he wasn't all that bad. He's still too stupid to be in that grade, if you ask Saruhiko, but he doesn't mind that much anymore, even if it means he ends up doing everything from research to the output ever single time.

He's gotten used to it, to say the least. He's gotten used to their constant squabbles and lunches on whatever clean surface the school or the city had to offer. He's gotten used to the feeling of someone's back on his whenever they're caught in a fight.

He's gotten used to Misaki. All idiotic, loud, and troublesome parts of him.

So maybe Misaki's just another lost boy, friendless and alone, and only stuck with him because their situations were more or less the same. So what if that's the only reason they even manage to put up with each other. Lost boys gravitate to each other, and Saruhiko's not going to complain because for once in his life, someone's stuck to him; someone actually needs him, someone who won't leave right after he lends them a hand; someone who can stand being next to him for more than an hour, who actually _likes_ and_chooses to be _beside him.

He's not going to think of the what if's because those don't matter. What matters is what's happening, and what's happening is that the stupid little boy who had a bad hair cut is turning out to be the best thing that's ever happened to him, and easily worming a place into his heart.

He doesn't hate his seat so much anymore and stopped hating his homeroom teacher with a passion, enough to ease up on the mischievous pranks he (and Misaki, when the brunette feels particularly vindictive) sets up for her every morning, lunch, and afternoon. The most prominent change of all is how his eyes stopped seeking the solace of the view outside the window and started to turn to the person on his right instead.

Or maybe it could be how, on the occasions where Misaki catches him staring and turns away, shifting uncomfortably, he could see Misaki's elfish ears slowly turn red, and it would make him feel like his chest was about to explode. From what, he's not sure. He's not sure if it's good for him or if it'll kill him, only that he likes the feeling and he wants to preserve it.


	8. Headcanon: self-harm

**Published: **December 31, 2012

* * *

Fushimi self-harms.

Under the reproachful eye of the moon, especially on the days where memories of the past threaten to suffocate him, he picks up one of his well polished knives and draws a thin line of blood across his wrists and lets the pain overtake him, lets it drown out the ghost of Misaki's laughter and smiles and for once, there's peace and quiet in his mind.

It's even better when the pitter-patter of the rain beats against his window, filling in the empty silence and for a while he could pretend there's nothing missing from his side—not the warm hand clutching his, not the feeling of a small body pressed up against him, hugging him closer when the thunder booms, and definitely not the company of a best friend who'd tell him he only needed him.

It's a blissful, addictive feeling, and he had submitted to it more times than he could care to remember. The only downside to it is that it left scars, scars that do nothing but remind him of how pathetic he is to gamble permanent reminds of the precious things he'd lost for a moment of peace in his mind and heart.

So it's not shame that drives him to cover his marred wrists with his bands. He wears them because they're convenient to him.

It's not even a secret, really—just something he'd only bothered to confirm to the Blue king and the lieutenant when rumors started to spread and people began to speculate.

(In retrospect, he should have exerted more control over his habits but the sight of Misaki with the Red king makes his chest itch, the kind of painful and irritating itch that still bothers him even now.)

He really just doesn't care for anything outside his small garden—too small for three and too big for only one, and open to no one else but Misaki.


	9. Headcanon: smoking

**Published:** Less than fifteen minutes until 2013

**Headcanon: **Fushimi only occasionally takes a smoke, but not because of Scepter4's strict no vices policy.

* * *

As an orphan getting tossed around between foster homes in a supposedly thriving city, it's no surprise he smokes in middle school. Hell, the regular two packs he could manage to swipe from the sketchy dealer behind his regular arcade each day wasn't even enough.

His teachers used to make snide remarks about the foster home starving him because he was thin as fuck, but then they'd smell the nicotine in his breath and they'd get that disapproving look at their eyes, judging him even as they spit lies from their mouths saying they only care about his health, warning him about the bad effects of smoking like he didn't already know and hadn't already weighed the pros and cons before he even started.

When his homeroom teacher changes his seat, the first thing his new seatmate tells him is that he smelled like shit and god, Fushimi wanted to wring the guy's neck for not minding his own fucking business.

Later, the same teacher pairs them up for a group project and he learns his seatmate's name is Misaki Yata, and he was probably the stupidest person Fushimi'd ever met or was likely to ever meet in his life.

Misaki tells him there's no fucking way he's going to help in the project if he smelled like that (the little stupid shit even asks him who in their right mind would manufacture a cologne that smelled like that) and he ends up finishing it alone because the teacher said corporal punishment awaited him if he so much as laid another hand on Misaki after the first incident involving scissors, an almost slit throat that didn't belong to him, and a bunch of fucking painful bruises that did.

But Misaki doesn't leave like Fushimi expects him to. Fushimi doesn't tell him, but Misaki knows he appreciates the company anyway. Thats how they finish every project that comes after that, with Misaki just watching him do the work, occasionally making snide remarks and useless commentary.

They get a perfect score in every one of those projects until Misaki plops down beside him one day and picks up a scissor and starts cutting, much to Fushimi's surprise. Misaki shifts uncomfortably under Fushimi's scrutiny and says, "What?! You smell fine now!" and when Fushimi still didn't snap out of his trance, he adds, "Stop looking at me like that, it's creeping me out!"

But Fushimi continues to stare because he's brought back, trying to think of the last time he even thought of taking a smoke and found that he really couldn't remember. And he insisted on blaming it on the shock of the revelation but he grabs Misaki's shirt and pulls him to a kiss.

They didn't get a perfect score on that one, or the one after that, or even the next one, but Fushimi never really cared about his grades anyway.

(The first time he ever felt like taking a smoke after that was after his confrontation with Misaki in the alley when he'd decided to leave Homra. The urge doesn't come as often as it did before, but mostly because he keeps it in bay. He likes to believe Misaki still hates the smell of it, and didn't magically switch preferences when he found out the Red king smokes.)

* * *

**A/N**: Is there such a thing as a conflicted headcanon? This one's full of holes and I just really like the sight of Fushimi leaning down on a car or his desk with a cigar between his fingers. (From Mikoto to Munakata to him? IDK, haha.)

Happy new years everyone! Because dogs get traumatized with fireworks so I'm keeping them company. Plus... never did like the smell of alcohol or the taste of cheap wine. \o/


	10. Ficlet: new years

**Published: **Almost 3 hours into 2013.

For muku-kufufued who asked for fluffy Sarumi on new years... (Because this far exceeds Twitter's limit.)

* * *

Fushimi extends the hand to cup the face of the boy beside him, planting a chaste kiss on his pale lips. "Hear that?" he whispers, audible even with the clatter of parties and music and the wild explosions of fireworks outside. "Happy new year, Misaki."

The racket outside continues, but with his fingers slipped in between Misaki's, he falls asleep quite easily, leaning close to the body beside him. The last thing he remembers is Misaki's cold dead eyes endlessly staring right back at him and the irritation he felt at the sight of the creases between Misaki's eyebrows, because those just won't fucking disappear no matter what he does and they mar Misaki's face, along with the sickening black that started to seep in.

In the morning, he kisses Misaki goodbye before he leaves for headquarters. After a second thought, he goes back and dislodges the knife protruding from Misaki's chest, saying, "Sorry about this, Misaki. Might need this today. My unit's going on a raid. Wait for me, alright?" He ruffles Misaki's hair and admires his handiwork, admires how perfectly beautiful Misaki looked, still as a doll.

He returns home with his uniform more or less torn and burnt but his eyes light up in childish joy when he sees Misaki waiting for him like he'd asked. He gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and still finds the taste of salty tears in his tongue, even when days had passed since he finally, _permanently,_ took Misaki's heart.

Cheerfully, he says, "Had a run in with our old friends from the Red clan, Misaki. Don't worry, I'm fine. You've got to admire their dedication; those bastards are still looking for you."

No reply comes, and no reply will ever come. It's not the same. His Misaki could never stay quiet. His Misaki would shout till his voice ran out, and his Misaki couldn't even stand still for more than a few seconds. But this is something, at least. This Misaki is more obedient. This Misaki is his and his alone. The Red king's name will never come out of this Misaki's cold lips. Something is definitely better than nothing and he'll have Misaki however he can.

* * *

**A/N: **I love psychotic!Saru. I really do. Also, my slate's more or less empty now so shoot me a prompt or two, yeah? :)


	11. ImagineYourOTP: in the ice rink

**Published: **December 30, 2012

**Imagineyourotp** _being dorks on the ice rink._

* * *

"'You'll be warm in the arcade,' he says," says Fushimi in a mock representation of Yata's voice, burying his nose further under his scarf but not getting enough warmth. He clicks his tongue and brushes off the small pile of snow that had began to grow on his shoulder. Shivering into his jacket, he sarcastically adds, "I'm definitely warm now."

He looks at Yata carelessly weaving his way in between people, knocking over a few. Fushimi thinks he looks like an idiot under all those layers and silently wishes he'd brought more than just his fleece.

Yata catches his eye and skates over to the benches, cheeks flushed from the cold and numb from smiling too much.

"I thought you wanted to go to the arcade," Fushimi says when Yata comes over, his tone accusatory. "You know, where it's _warm_," he adds for the sake of his ears and fingers.

"I didn't know there was a rink here!" replies Yata, laughing. He shrugs off his scarf and wraps it around Fushimi's head and neck. After contemplating a bit, he takes off his beanie and forcefully pulls it over Saruhiko's head. "There!" he cries, admiring his handiwork. "That should keep you warm while I play."

Fushimi shoots him a dirty look and Yata chuckles and says, "What? You look fine!"

"I look like an idiot," Fushimi deadpans. He wasn't vain. He just had the sense to look decent in front of others. Hanging out with Yata brought out the sense of responsibility he'd long suppressed.

"That's just your imagination," Yata says, turning around to go join the rest of the merry people.

Fushimi grabs his arm before he goes. He raises a brow and asks, "You don't expect me to wait for you for free, do you?" He smiles when Yata splutters, grateful for the scarves hiding the majority of his face.

Yata feels the blood rush through his face, and it's got nothing to do with the cold. He looks way, biting his lip and debating if it was worth it or not.

"Well?"

Yata shakes his head off indecision. He forcefully pulls down Fushimi by his scarf and and plants a quick kiss on his cheek and dashes off before Fushimi could demand for more.

* * *

**A/N**: Oops. Forgot about this one. Shoot me prompts via review/tumblr ask. \o/


	12. ImagineYourOTP: baking cookies

**Published: **January 01, 2013

**Imagine** _person A of_ **your otp** _making holiday cookies for person B. But they end up cooking them for too long and they burn. They start to feel upset but person B tells them its alright as they wipe a tear away from person A's cheek and give them a kiss._

* * *

Saruhiko stares at the mess before him and prays to whoever's listening that Kusanagi-san won't be back soon lest they suffer the wrath of a housewife equipped with a man's physical power.

There's a layer of white flour covering most of the bar's kitchen, and every utensil available is coated with batter. Scattered across the floor is a variety of ingredients, some of which couldn't possibly be even a mistaken in the recipe. (Raisins, he could understand at least, but hotdogs and broccoli?)

Saruhiko raises an incredulous brow and asks, "Do you even know what you're doing?"

Misaki turns and scowls at him. With a hand on his hip, he snaps, "Shh! Can't you just stay there quietly and let me do this thing?!" He goes back to brewing his concoction (Saruhiko doesn't even want to know why he's brewing anything at all) and mutters something about impatient and ungrateful monkeys under his breath.

And because he wouldn't be Saruhiko if he didn't have a snarky retort, he goes over to smell the hazy muck simmering on the pot and cringes. "This smells horrible. Are you sure you're not trying to poison me?"

A forceful foot lands on Saruhiko's toes, stomping and crushing his own foot as if it was a roach. "Ow!" he exclaims, cringing and bending over to nurse his throbbing appendage, throwing an accusatory look at Misaki as if that attack went unprovoked.

"Either you shut up and sulk quietly in your seat or I'm kicking your sorry ass out of here!"

Maybe it's the way Misaki wears an apron as he flails around with a ladle in his hand, looking fierce and enticingly domestic at the same time, but Saruhiko does as he's told for once and sits patiently on the kitchen chair, waiting for Misaki to finish.

Hours later, he wakes to the smell of something indescribably repellant rather than the thud of the cookie tray hitting the table. He first sees the monsters on the tray stares horrified at the thought of those even being thought edible and was about to say something witty about it when he notices the way Misaki was biting his lips, the way his eyebrows were all scrunched up, and the pouty look to his eyes that reminded Saruhiko of a hurt hound. (He'd never admit to calling Misaki a Chihuahua. Ever.)

On instinct, he jumps to his feet, all the alarms raised within him.

"You're right. It went out all wrong. I-I don't know why... I followed all the instructions Mikoto-san gave me... Even added some other stuff to make it better!" He raises the list that looked suspicious in itself, and Saruhiko doubted the messy scrawl on the paper came from Mikoto.

"...Did he give you that?" he asks. Hesitantly, he adds, "Err, what... did you add to it?"

"Bandou and Chitose got it from Mikoto-san for me." He contemplates before he continues, counting them off with his fingers, "Uhh, vegetables because you don't eat enough of them, tortilla sauce because they make even Doritos taste good... Err, I think I put in cheese, but I'm not sure if it was mozzarella or Parmesan... uhh lots of other yummy stuff! It was supposed to be epic!"

Saruhiko fights off the urge to wince and make things worse, and sends a silent prayer for Bandou and Chitose to rot in hell. He goes over and places a comforting hand over Misaki's shoulder.

He kisses Misaki's cheek, for good luck, and snaps a piece of a cookie. "Maybe it only looks bad..."

He feels how undercooked and sticky it still is and immediately regrets it. Please please please be safe to eat, please please please be free from bacteria and whatever harmful organisms that might have mutated here...

Yata looks at him hopefully and fuck, it's too late now. He braces himself when he takes the smallest bite out of it and holy mother of fuck is this what freshly picked earthworms taste like this is the worst shit in the planet fuck fuck he's looking at me uhh shit he's expecting something from me fuck fuck - "It's... not as bad I thought," he chokes out, forcing the the abomination down his throat and feeling the bile rise up after.

The way Misaki's face brightens up makes it a little worth it.

And then the way Misaki laughs and tip toes to kiss him makes it definitely worth it.

But the look on Misaki's face when pulls back in disgust and runs to the sink to gargle some water makes him sorta willing to do it again.

"Holy shit that's the worst fucking thing ever it tastes worse than the stank of Kamamoto's socks! Fuck," he says, his tone playful as he vigorously wipes his lips and trying to be completely rid of the taste.

"Well that'll teach you not to believe in the shit Chitose and Bandou say," says Saruhiko, laughing.

When he sobers up, Misaki is looking at him with a bright happy smile and Saruhiko just swears he can see a glow. "Thanks, Saruhiko. For putting up with it. And for putting up with me in general."

He moves to kiss Saruhiko's cheek but decides against it when he catches a whiff of Saruhiko's breath. "On second thought, here," he says, shoving a pack of mint gum to him.

"Err, I'll kiss you when you get rid of that smell." He runs away laughing.

**:+:**

For some reason, Saruhiko gets most of the punishment when Kusanagi returns home later in the evening and sees the state of his kitchen.

"NO KISSING, NO HUGGING, IN FACT, NO TOUCHING AT ALL, AND YOU KNOW WHAT? YATA-CHAN, YOU'LL BE BUNKING WITH BANDOU AND SHOUHEI CAN BUNK WITH FUSHIMI-KUN."

Outraged, Fushimi exclaims, "What?! For how long?!"

Kusanagi glares at him, anger past the boiling point long ago. "UNTIL I SAY YOU CAN GO BACK. OR UNTIL MY KITCHEN LOOKS AND SMELLS THE SAME AGAIN."

* * *

**A/N: **I got to caps lock. Whoot. Also, because I updated a lot today: accepting Sarumi (or ReiSaru) prompts.


	13. ImagineYourOTP: making up

**Published: **January 02, 2013

**For** Anon who wanted:

**Imagine your OTP** _waking up after having a fight the night before. Person A slept on the couch and [Person B, red eyed and exhausted,] tip toes [down]stairs to find Person [A]. They share a moment of desperate eye contact before Person A walks over to [Person B] and puts their arms tightly around the other, both saying how sorry they are._

* * *

Bright white light flashes through his window making Misaki curl up in the sheets. He throws the blankets over him and pulls the pillow closer to him. He twists and turns but that's as far as comfort goes when you're lying alone in a bed too big.

So he gets up and with light feet that no one expected him to have, he slipped out his door and into the corridor, making sure he didn't wake anyone up. He tip toes down the stairs and past the kitchen, stopping at the threshold of the lounge behind the bar.

Saruhiko is lying on the couch with a blanket draped casually over him, wide awake at two in the morning and staring into his PDA. Just staring.

An old picture of them smiles down on him from the screen and he remembers the day that was taken, remembers the familiar feeling of wind blowing across the school roof, and the sound of the school bell ringing, telling him they'd successfully cut through all their afternoon classes.

He's brought back by a sniff by the door and sits up on instinct. The first thing he sees is Misaki's swollen eyes and red nose, and it's a godawful sight and he never wants to see it again if he could.

He sets his PDA down on the coffee table and maybe the exhaustion and the guilt finally took him, or maybe it's the dreadful expression on Misaki's face, but he all but jumps to Misaki's side and envelops him in a hug, heaving a long exhausted sigh.

"Im sorry," he whispers, and he whispers it again and again until the words lose their meaning. "I couldn't sleep. I feel horrible."

"You should be," Misaki says, his edict without weight.

"She really was just some random lady who started talking to me first."

"I know," he says, but he punches Saruhiko's gut lightly anyway. "But that's not the point. I don't need you of all people telling me I'm an idiot for feeling a little miffed about seeing you talking to Miss D-Cup back there. I already have Bandou and Kamamoto calling me stupid everyday."

Saruhiko keeps his tongue in check and doesn't mention how misguided that sounded as opposed to him being the only one allowed to call him that. He makes a mental note to talk to Bandou and Kamamoto about that, but for now, he buries himself in the warmth Misaki radiated and whispers more apologies.

Later when he's lying in bed with Misaki practically lying over him, Misaki asks, "What did she even want anyway?"

He replays Awashima's propostion to join Scepter4 for the nth time that night and sighs.

"Nothing. She mistook me for someone else," he replies, and finds comfort in how that wasn't entirely false. She asked for Saruhiko Fushimi, and the Saruhiko Fushimi Misaki knew wouldn't have been tempted by the offer, he wouldn't even have considered the possibility of leaving his best friend behind, of stabbing him in the back.

* * *

**A/N:** With some alterations because Fushimi's a gentleman and he wouldn't subject Yata to sleeping on the couch. And he was too deep in guilt to think of waking Yata up to apologize. And with a touch of back story.


	14. ImagineYourOTP: snowball fight

**Published: **January 03, 2012

**ImagineYourOTP**_ as small children that live in the same neighborhood and person A always starts snowball fights with person B during winter and they have hot cocoa at person B's house afterwards._

* * *

Misaki's climb up to the tree was anything but smooth. The paddings of his winter clothes helped with keeping the scratches to a low minimum, but some of the wayward twigs still managed to slice his cheeks. But it was well worth it once he found the perfect spot in just the right amount of branches above the ground where he could watch everything go on bellow him unseen.

Hauling the bag of snow up with him was hard, to say the least, but essential for Misaki's plan. His only adversary, however, was his own impatience. Sitting still had always been a problem for him, and he doubted he could take anymore of this mock-sniper-shot scenario.

Fortunately, it doesn't take long for Saruhiko to go out out of his house looking left and right for Misaki. From his perch up high, Misaki snickers quietly, forming snow balls with deft hands and once Saruhiko closes the gate to his house, his small hands scratching the back of his head, and wondering where the heck Misaki could be, Misaki aims and shoots at a measured angle.

The balls collide with Saruhiko's head, and the boy whips his head around looking for the source of the attack.

"Misaki!" he growls, looking everywhere but up and Misaki tries hard to muffle his laughter. He showers Saruhiko with an onslaught of snowballs, strategically planning the timing and angles of his throws so as to not give his position away.

Saruhiko bravely suffers the assault and tries to retaliate by throwing a barrage of his own quickly made snowballs in every possible direction in vain. At some point, a shot hit him hard enough to knock his frames off and the sight of Saruhiko in such a distress sent Misaki into a laughing fit loud enough to draw Saruhiko's attention.

Seeing as he'd been found out, Misaki skillfully makes his way down the tree with a series of jumps and swings. "Show off," mutters Saruhiko, "And he calls me a monkey..."

By the time he lands in front of Saruhiko, he's still laughing, almost close to tears. "Did you see your face?!" he wheezes, clutching his stomach. His legs give way and he starts rolling on the floor. Saruhiko picks up his glasses, wipes them, and watches him with malicious contempt.

"That wasn't funny, Misaki!" He pouts and starts nagging, putting his hands over his shoulders like he'd seen his mommy do. "You know I hate the cold and look! I'm drenched!"

Misaki stops laughing but the mirth is still in his eyes and in the way he tries to hide his smile.

"You did this last year too! And the year before that, and you always do this even when you know I don't like it!" continues Saruhiko. He humphs and puts on his best angry-face, regretting it completely when he hears Misaki sniff, distinctly not from the cold.

"B-But it was f-fun so... so..." he trails off, mouth quivering. Saruhiko sees him rub his eyes and sees the way his shoulders tremble and feels the pang of guilt. He bends over and puts an arm around Misaki.

"I-It's alright... I'm sorry for snapping like that. It was a joke, see? I'm not angry at all..." he soothingly whispers.

And gets a palm full of snow shoved in his face by a dry-eyed Misaki. "Happy holidays, Saru!" he says and Misaki didn't look cute with his missing font tooth, Saruhiko would have butchered him right there. Instead, Saruhiko tackles him to the ground and they wrestle each other in the snow until Saruhiko forgets his irritation.

Later, they sit contentedly on the floor of Saruhiko's room with their backs to his bed. Misaki breathes in the deep and rests his head on Saruhiko's shoulders and says, "Thanks for playing with me even if you hate the cold."

Saruhiko's nanny comes in bringing two hot mugs of milk chocolate and Saruhiko looks up at her with pleading eyes and asks if Misaki could stay.

"Of course! He practically lives here!" she says kindly, and leaves the two children alone and sighs, knowing one child only had a cold small building cramped with ten or twenty other kids and enough food for five to return to while the other only had an old lady to fill in the silence of a large house.

* * *

**A/N**: A bit late for the season, I know, but I didn't notice this on my queue. ^^;; Furthermore, I just love well off but lonely Fushimi next to happy orphan Yata. It's cliche, but still _very_ cute.

**To** that Anon asking for Anna's ideas on SaruMi: Not very in-tune to her character but I'll try...? But if you have another request aside from that, that would be great! :)


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